Issue
#2

March
2009 

a poem by Rob Plath

 circus act called spring

death has pulled
a technicolor wig
back over its skull

glued a
bright red nose
over its bony
hole

flinging its black
hooded robe
to the wind
& ditching its
sickle

it throws on
its goofy shoes

& precariously peddles
its unicycle
around the landscape

while juggling
the bulbs of
flowers
like bowling pins

© Rob Plath

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